ith this for a text, the doctor undertook to reason Petrovitsch into a
better way of thinking. He tried to convince him that the world had not
changed for the worse any more than the spring of water; only his eyes
and thoughts, as well as his palate, had lost their youth. He explained
to him, that while he was perfectly right in strengthening his mental
and bodily powers by contact with the outside world, yet domestic
industry and economy required that many should stay at home, and be
screwed, like their own vice, to the work-bench. He laid special stress
on the delicacy, amounting almost to morbid sensitiveness, that
accompanies a talent for music; at the same time pointing out to the
old man the same soft-heartedness in himself that he censured in his
nephew. He strongly urged upon him the necessity of extending a helping
hand. But Petrovitsch had relapsed into his old obstinacy, and silenced
the doctor by saying: "I keep to what I said before. I neither give
advice nor take it. I shall take no steps in the matter. If you say
another word, doctor, I will not answer for the consequences."

It was clear there was nothing further to be hoped for, and, as a
message arrived at this moment from Ibrahim, Petrovitsch and the doctor
left the house together. The doctor was obliged to draw his cloak close
about him as he went up the Morgenhalde. It was blowing fiercely,
though the wind was strangely warm.

CHAPTER XXXI.

ANNELE THAWS AND FREEZES AGAIN.

While Lenz, in his great distress, was wandering about the world,
Annele was visited at home. She was alone, wholly alone; for her
husband had left no parting word behind. He had gone away moody and
silent, without opening his lips. Pooh! Two words would have brought
him back, she thought, and yet a strange fear oppressed her heart, and
flushed her cheeks. She had never been used to the company of her own
thoughts. In the constant bustle and stir in which her life had been
spent, she had never sat down quietly to think. Now it was forced upon
her. No matter what she turned her hand to, or how persistently she
went about her household work, something was always following her,
pulling at her gown, and whispering, "Hearken to me!"

Little William was sitting by the servant-maid, winding the yarn as
fast as it was spun. The baby had been put to sleep, and as Annele sat
by the child's bed an invisible power held her in her c